


#PodiumFamily strikes again

by Vilchen



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, Dorks in Love, Fluff, M/M, Makkachin is the most spoiled dog in the world, Rated T To Be Safe, Victor is extra™, Vitya and Makka are high maintenance af, as always, attempted humor, yuuri loves them anyways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 11:18:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18548701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vilchen/pseuds/Vilchen
Summary: "Please tell me you did not order Makka a Stammi Vicino jacket online.""Online? This is designer, Yuuri!"





	#PodiumFamily strikes again

**Author's Note:**

> So, yeah. I decided to use one of those prompt-list-thingies, and now I have eight drabbles saved and ready to be posted. I haven’t really slept much this weekend.
> 
> And we all know Victor spoils Makka to the moon and back, lol
> 
> Enjoy!

 

"What are you doing?" Yuuri closes the door behind him and puts down the grocery bags in his hands. Victor looks up, alarmed, and shoves something behind his back. It looks like a bag from one of those expensive designer boutiques Victor adores, bright pink and overflowing with purple tissue paper.

"Oh, it’s nothing," he says and smiles. Yuuri lifts an eyebrow at him and drops his keys in the bowl next to the shoe rack. The sound of claws tapping on the floorboards is enough for Yuuri to step away from his bags before Makkachin rounds the corner and jumps at him with a 'welcome home' bark.

His hands finds their into his fur and he laughs in between wet, sloppy kisses and praises. He looks up and Victor freezes for a moment before he too smiles, slightly too tight.

"What's wrong?" He asks with his hands still buried in Makkachin's warm, fluffy fur, and that’s when he feels it. Fabric, soft against his fingertips like Makka's fur, surely the only reason he didn’t notice it before. Victor visibly tenses. Makkachin wags his tail and the golden accents on his pink doggie jacket wags with it.

"Yuuri, I can explain—"

"Victor," His glasses have slipped down his nose, and he pushes them up with a finger and a deadpan glare in Victor’s direction.

"Please tell me you did not buy a Stammi Vicino inspired jacket online for our dog." Makkachin's tongue lolls out, adorable enough to bring men to their knees; but not Yuuri. He has fifteen years worth of puppy eyes experience and will not surrender. _Never_.

"Online?" Victor has the gall to look offended. "This is _Givency_ and tailored. As if I’d let Makka walk around in something I bought online," He scoots over to Makkachin and buries his face in her fur, nuzzling and cooing. "My Makkachin deserves the best, don’t you darling? The best dog in the whole world."

His fifteen years worth of puppy eyes experience disappears out the window, and Yuuri promptly plops down on the floor to join in on the cooing of the ridiculous adorable dog and husband combo in front of him.

"Okay, yes, Makka is the best dog, but Victor," Yuuri hides his face in his hands, holding back a whimper at the thought of how much it must’ve cost. Personal experience shows that Victor never jokes about designer labels. He’s high maintenance, alright.

"Dogs don’t wear clothes! When will he even use it?"

"What do you mean dogs don’t wear clothes? They wear collars, no?" Victor tilts his head. There’s a special furrow between his eyebrows that only shows up when the foundation of his beliefs are questioned, and Yuuri really wants to kiss it away. But he is wrong, and it’s Yuuri's duty as a responsible husband to tell him so.

"That’s not the same."

"Why? And I’ve seen them wear hats! Socks too!"

"Are you seriously comparing protective dog socks to a tailored designer jacket inspired by your old gold winning free skate?"

"It’s all a matter of _taste_ , Yuuri," Makkachin decides that he’s had enough of the discussion and trots away to sniff at the grocery bags Yuuri left by the door. Both Yuuri and Victor are too immersed to really notice.Their thighs are touching, the point of contact is surprisingly warm through the denim of their jeans.

"Taste?" Yuuri puts his hands on Victor’s knees and leans forward, their noses almost touching. "I think I’ve got plenty of taste." His breath is hot against Victor's skin, and the small hitch in hisbreath is incredibly satisfying. Victor’s hands sneak their way up his legs and grasps firmly at his thighs.

"Yuuri," He loves the way Victor says his name. The way each syllable is muttered like a caress, no matter if it’s English or Russian or French. Phichit says it’s the same way even when he’s not in the room, and Yuuri loves him all the more for it. He’s the same, after all.

Victor’s grip on his thighs tightens, and his head falls down to Yuuri's shoulder to nose at his throat. Yuuri closes his eyes, the faint touches on his neck feels more like butterfly caresses than real, human ones, and goosebumps appears along his throat in their wake. Yuuri’s hands clasp at Victor's shoulders, angling his head to give him better access as the sweet touches transforms into brief kisses and nibbles.

"We should probably—" Yuuri opens his eyes for a second, and a second is all it takes to tear himself away from Victor (to great displeasure for both of them) and grasp the disaster in front of them.

"Makka, no!"

Victor jumps up and drags Makkachin away from the open carton of eggs he's sniffing at, and Yuuri can’t keep the wince of his face when an eggshell cracks under one of his paws. A thick layer of flour is scattered on the floor, and a trail of paw prints follows when Makkachin’s yolk covered feet drags away. A container of sour cream with it’s lid popped off spills steadily on the floor, contributing to the greatest grocery massacre of the year.

Yuuri wants to laugh and cry at once. Makkachin’s fur and his pink, tailored designer jacket is covered in a mix of eggs, flour, sour cream and something that looks like mustard. No dry cleaner in all of Russia can fix that mess, he’s sure. Victor sighs and shoves his bangs back, leaving his forehead streaked with flour. A real masterpiece, truly.

The image is too much, and Yuuri can’t help but laugh. He gets up, kisses the white spot on Victor’s forehead and ruffles Makkachin's ears.

"I’ll take the floor and you take him?" He says and nods down at Makkachin. Victor pouts, so Yuuri kisses him there too, then picks up the savable groceries to store away in the fridge and cupboards. Victor trudges away with Makkachin at his heels, quiet scoldings spilling from his lips. 

"You have horrible timing, darling," he hears Victor say through the closed bathroom door.

He spends the next thirty minutes cleaning up the mess with smile on his face as he listens to the sound of running water and Victor singing old classics completely off tune with Makkachin as his chorus.

 

Later, when he's tackled onto the couch for cuddles with Victor’s hair still wet, he has pretty much forgotten about the whole jacket thing.

 

* * *

 

"I can’t believe you," he says when he stumbles in two weeks later and sees Victor with his hand stuffed into another pink, obviously designer bag. He doesn’t even look ashamed, but smiles and waves him over. Yuuri has to shove purple tissue paper down on the floor to make room on the couch.

"I know, I know," Victor says and lifts the bag so Yuuri can lay his feet on his lap, "but this one is better." And now he has that glint in his eyes and his dimples are showing and Yuuri is a weak, weak man.

Victor pulls out another Stammi Vicino jacket and holds it up to the light. It’s perfect. It’s purple and soft and the embroidery looks absolutely divine and Makka is such a good dog. She deserves it.

"Oh my god, Victor," he clutches his shirt, and Victor can surely feel him smile against his throat. "We all match." And then Victor's arms are around him, and Yuuri doesn’t have to see him to hear the smile in his voice.

"I know. You know that ice show we have scheduled in August?"

A tiny gasp escapes him. "We have to take him with us." He turns and looks up at Victor, wide eyed and sparkling. "Victor, Makka could be our mascot. We could make Yurio watch him while we’re skating and bring him to our interviews!"

"You’re right, we _should!"_

 

* * *

 

[picture of Yuuri and Victor in their blue and pink Stammi Vicino costumes with Makkachin in his purple one between them. They’re all wearing Gucci sunglasses.]

#PodiumFamily #MatchingSkatingFam #Makkachin #Victuuri #FamilyGoals #ReadyForTheIce #WeDidItFirst

 

During the next couple weeks skaters from all over the world attributes to the #MatchingSkatingFam tag. Phichit Chulanont's tiny hamster suits receives especially many likes, followed by Seung-Gil Lee's recreation of his short program costume to his Siberian Husky and Yuri Plisetsky's exhibition costume to his cat. 

"We’ve created a monster," Victor whispers into his hair when they lie in bed, using Victor's phone to stalk their friends on Instagram. Yuuri nuzzles into his bicep and smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> I googled 'how to write sexual/romantic tension' for that one paragraph or whatever, but someone really needs to write an actual guide for that cause I’m stumped. 
> 
> The prompt was "Dogs can’t wear clothes!" from https://prompt-bank.tumblr.com/post/152084082678/drabble-challenge 
> 
> Thank you for reading and feel free to yell (gently) at me in the comments!


End file.
